Nijolė Tuomienė. Kalba ir tapatybė Pietryčių Lietuvos ir Baltarusijos paribiuose (XX a. II pusė – XXI a. pradžia). 1 dalis

Acta Linguistica Lituanica 2025, vol. 92, pp. 1–10 Contents link / Turinio nuoroda ISSN 2669-218X (online / elektroninis) Nijolė Tuomienė LANGUAGE AND IDENTITY IN THE BORDERLANDS OF SOUTHEASTERN LITHUANIA AND BELARUS (SECOND HALF OF THE 20TH CENTURY – BEGINNING OF THE 21ST CENTURY). PART 1 Vilnius: Institute of the Lithuanian Language, 2023, 259 pp. DOI https://doi.org/10.35321/e-pub.68.paribio-kalbos-tapatybe ISBN-978-609-411-357-4 JANINA ŠVAMBARYTĖ-VALUŽIENĖ Email: [email protected] ORCID ID: – Research areas: dialectology, lexicography and lexicology of Lithuanian dialects, analysis of dialectal expression in written sources, sociolinguistics. https://doi.org/10.35321/all92-13 A Book about the Identity Paths of People Who Use Several Languages Nijolė Tuomienė’s study of language and identity concerns how a distorted, anti-value attitude toward language shapes a vulnerable personality; how that damaged person, living sedentarily in their village, is virtually “moved” from one state to another, i.e. repeatedly occupied in their own country; how generations experience these destructive factors; how existential time, having or having had language as its repository—language that destroys the speaker’s self-esteem; and how, ultimately, traumatized and dying language perishes, and how another language, or even several other languages, inevitably takes its place. As indicated in the book’s title, the author focuses her attention on the second half of the 20th century and the beginning of the 21st century. The treatment of the main problems most closely links Nijolė Tuomienė’s research with that of Halina Turska (1995 [1939]) and Valerijus Čekmon (2017) Copyright © 2025 Janina Švambarytė-Valužienė. Published by the Institute of the Lithuanian Language. This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution Licence, which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original author and source are credited. // Išleido Lietuvių kalbos institutas. Šis straipsnis yra atviros prieigos, platinamas pagal „Creative Commons“ priskyrimo licencijos sąlygas, leidžiančias neribotai naudoti, platinti ir atkurti turinį bet kokioje laikmenoje, nurodant autorių ir šaltinį. Received: / Received: 2024-11-28. Accepted: / Accepted: 2025-01-21. 1 conception; many echoes can be discerned when it is compared with the works of Petras Gaučas, Vaclovas Milius, Aloyzas Vidugiris, Tamara Sudnik, Kazimieras Garšva, Laima Grumadienė, Irena Adomavičiūtė, and other researchers of the Baltic and Slavic borderlands. In other words, Nijolė Tuomienė undoubtedly belongs to the line of scholars developing Halina Turska’s conception. The monograph reveals the complex current linguistic situation in the southeastern fringe of Lithuania and northwestern Belarus (Varanavo district). It is precisely the history of the latter territory that, more than that of any other, reveals the ability of Lithuanians who, within the lifetime of one or two generations, found themselves under several occupations and surrounded by inhabitants of other ethnicities, to adapt in order to survive. The imprint of that experience has been passed from generation to generation to this day. Therefore, I believe that a subtitle would suit Tuomienė’s scholarly work—A Monograph of Fates—which emerged from walking through, in summer, what are now mostly former Lithuanian islands of Belarus and neighboring sites in the southeastern Lithuanian borderlands; recording and carefully listening to more than 160 hours of linguistic audio recordings; becoming acquainted with respondents’ sociolinguistic questionnaires¹; and surveying multilingual scholarly literature. The extensive research material, collected from 21 Atlas of the Lithuanian Language (hereinafter LKA) sites, covers a period of more than 70 years (the second half of the 20th century to the second decade of the 21st century), although the main focus is on our own or almost our own times. Historically, 20th-century Lithuania was a state of redrawn borders: part of its territory went to Belarus, and it experienced several occupations (the Polish occupation in 1920–1939 and, after World War II, the Soviet occupation). The ideology of the “borderlands of the former homeland, Poland,” which was formed and imposed for a long time and “over the past thirty years shifted into the open imposition of Polishness,” isolated the inhabitants of the southeastern Lithuanian borderlands from Lithuanian society (p. 7). The Lithuanian islands of Belarus had to move from bilingualism between Lithuanian dialects and the Belarusian dialect (poprostu) to Russian, which had become the state language. The author presents in detail and insightfully how, in southeastern Lithuania (the present Šalčininkai District Municipality) and northwestern Belarus (the present Varanavo District), the local Lithuanian dialects belonging to the Southern and Eastern Aukštaitian dialects were gradually and purposefully destroyed / disappeared from the beginning of the 20th century onward. The method of linguistic geography applied to the linguistic areas under study until the 21st century was only partly suitable for addressing the problems posed by the author: facts were recorded, but the method could not explain the causes of language change. Therefore, when applying the old method, earlier Lithuanian linguists were simply forced to regard tendencies in language interaction or the loss of essential linguistic features, as well as observed deviations, as accidental, as deviations from the logical course of the process; consequently, there arose not only a temptation but an outright necessity to eliminate them from the study². The changing linguistic situation beyond Lithuania’s territorial boundaries was first described by Eduardas Volteris (Eduards Volters) and Olafas Brokas (Olaf Broch). Researchers in the 1980s established that in the adjacent border districts—Varanavo and Šalčininkai— ¹ Descriptions are provided on pp. 223–259, while the 256 bibliographic entries are listed on pp. 151–169. ² The linguistic geography method was applied by the first researchers of this region: Kazys Morkūnas, Zigmas Zinkevičius, Jadvyga Kardelytė, and others, while Aloyzas Vidugiris, Laima Grumadienė, Kazimieras Garšva, Vytautas Kardelis, and others wrote about the observed changes in the dialects. 2 Lithuanian dialects are no longer used in everyday life³. Linguists in the 21st century maintain that, in the absence of natural continuity, conditions are being created at LKA borderland sites for Standard Lithuanian (bk) to take hold. The main obstacle to its being the only language used in southeastern Lithuania and along the Belarusian border is Lithuanian, which, having lost its principal functions, is “gradually being pushed out of active use and replaced by another language (or other languages)” (12). Therefore, of the 17 LKA sites in Lithuania’s borderland territory, only 7 are viable, 2 are viable and mixed, and 8 are disappearing. The remaining 4 LKA sites in Belarusian territory have declined, except for the still-disappearing Pelesa site. The author based the study on sociolinguistic and linguistic material from the two aforementioned linguistic areas: material not only from the Lithuanian language, but also from the local Belarusian dialect and local Polish, as well as from varieties of the Belarusian and Russian literary languages used there, collected from 1964 to 2017⁴. The monograph is valuable because of the skilful application of the qualitative research method to two different yet similar linguistic areas of the borderlands and beyond the border. Various sociolinguistic respondent-survey methods were employed, revealing both the respondents’ behavior and ongoing linguistic processes determined by economic, social, political, and other factors. Targeted information from ethnolinguistic observation of the situation is conveyed through group conversations, in-depth and semi-structured interviews. It is useful for studying respondents’ linguistic and cultural attitudes and ways of thinking, that is, for applying the ethnolinguistic method of data analysis. Multilingual examples of statements provided by respondents are transcribed⁵. The object of study also prompted the creation of a glossary of the terms used, facilitating comprehension of the monograph’s text. The understanding among representatives of Lithuanian dialects of what is local and non-local differs from analogous borderland / beyond-the-border terms. In southeastern Lithuania, local / non-local has a different meaning [“there, farther away in Lithuania, our ‘localness’ is not understood” (p. 109)]. Here, language, as a component of ethnic identity, was changed three times over more than a century: from 1920, Polish was forcibly required (alongside Lithuanian and Belarusian); from 1945, Russian (alongside Polish, Belarusian, and Lithuanian); and from 1988, Lithuanian was restored (alongside Russian, Polish, and Belarusian). Therefore, the linguistic situation in the borderlands must be studied both carefully and perceptively. 20th-century language ³ The bilingualism and multilingualism of borderland inhabitants from 1972 to the present day are emphasized in publications by researchers of both Lithuanian and Slavic languages or dialects. ⁴ The duration of the audio recordings is 166 hours; the sociolinguistic data consist of completed population surveys (questionnaires). Eighty-nine multilingual respondents from the older, middle, and younger generations were interviewed and/or recorded. Audio recordings were collected from all 17 LKA sites in the southeastern Lithuanian borderlands (70 hours in total). Texts were recorded in two different periods: in 1964–1990, 34 hours of audio recordings were made in the Southern Aukštaitian and Eastern Aukštaitian Vilnius dialects; in 2011–2013, 36 hours of audio recordings were made at sites in Šalčininkai District (31 hours in local Slavic languages, only 5 hours in the Lithuanian dialect and the non-dialectal variety of Lithuanian). In the continuation of the Southern Aukštaitian subdialect in Belarus, spoken-language data were collected in several stages (96 hours of recordings in total): in 1995–2007, 58 hours of Lithuanian dialect texts were recorded, and in 2011–2017, 34 hours of texts (9 hours in the Lithuanian dialect and 25 hours in local Belarusian and Polish, while only 4 hours were in Russian and Standard Belarusian). ⁵ Dialectal examples from Eastern and Southern Aukštaitian are presented in Copenhagen phonetic transcription. Examples from the Belarusian dialect and local Polish are written in the simplified transcription used in scholarly publications by Slavists and other linguists. The cited examples are also transcribed in bk, with the meanings of differing words indicated in parentheses. 3 The thoughts of Valerijus Čekmon, a pioneer of contact linguistics, that southeastern Lithuania needs “a literate analysis of the history of the Poles of Lithuania, its recognition and proper interpretation,” and that the results of the language-contact process depend “on the similarity of languages and their social prestige” (p. 39), remain relevant today. For no essential changes in self-perception had occurred by the 21st century. Kristina Rutkovska, who studied Polish speakers in Lithuania, established that there are no monolinguals in the borderland region; bilingualism or a mixed linguistic environment predominates. At the turn of the century, manifestations of Lithuanian dialects in the southeastern fringe of Lithuania were observed at 9 (out of 17) LKA sites. At these sites, features characteristic of Southern Aukštaitian are preserved to varying degrees (dzūkavimas; narrowing of ą, ę; preservation of the diphthongs an, am). The locations of the other 8 LKA sites have become Slavicized; their inhabitants understand Lithuanian but can no longer speak it. Until the end of the 20th century, the situation had been different: in the southeastern Lithuanian-Belarusian borderlands, informants from the older and partly the middle generation spoke dialectally, while only the young had adopted Slavic languages. Recent studies of multilingualism in southeastern Lithuania show that speaking Lithuanian, Russian, Polish, or Belarusian is situational. This multilingualism in the region is newly evaluated by informants from different generations—it is supposedly an advantage. And this view, when the criterion of geographical context is applied to southeastern Lithuania by contemporary Lithuanian linguists, appears not to have changed for a century: “although Lithuanian is the state language and is mandatory in state institutions, the predominant language of everyday communication in the region is nevertheless Polish” (p. 42). In southeastern Lithuania, there is a tendency for “Standard Polish to push the dialectal language out of public use,” not only Lithuanian but also the Belarusian dialect (p. 43). Soviet-era Russification, which produced Russian-speaking middle and younger generations, seems to be changing their attitude—Russian is no longer considered prestigious. This would clear the way for the state language, Lithuanian, but historical confusion remains deeply rooted: “[T]here was Lithuania, while here there is Poland. Poles live here. Grandfather said that since ancient times everyone here spoke Polish, no one [spoke] Lithuanian” (p. 80)⁶. Historically, southeastern Lithuania and the Lithuanian islands in Belarus have belonged to both the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth—Rzeczpospolita—as well as the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union. In terms of place, all the lands belong to the autochthonous Lithuanians who lived there, while politically the inhabitants of the borderland region “wandered” from one state to another” (p. 66). In the respondents’ account: “[M]y father said, we have to run, we won’t survive, well, we have to go somewhere. <...> And so we stayed, lived through it, grew up, and now we live here; we pray palskai (in Polish), and speak gudiškai (in Belarusian)” (p. 66). Since after World War I there were no longer states whose borders had been drawn on a national basis, an unwillingness to acknowledge one’s belonging to one nation or another emerged, forming the term tuteišis (tuteišiškumas)—a person who speaks several languages but emphasizes only their place of residence, that is, their connection with geography: “With the Poles, we were left without our language, without Lithuanian Mass. I remember that my father did not attend Polish Mass. <...> They made the schools Polish, well, later Russian <...>. We did not know how to read or write in Lithuanian. That is how I grew up. Few people still spoke Belarusian. Later the languages changed, and everyone learned [Belarusian]. The people remained the same. Father ⁶ An example from Turgeliai, Šalčininkai District Municipality. 4 spoke lietuviškai utărija (Lithuanian), while the son already spoke Polish <...>” (p. 70). Tuteišiškumas is understood as a tactic of cultural resistance and, for local borderland inhabitants, is connected with self-preservation while adapting to ever-new social and political circumstances: “[S]trangers came and registered us all as Poles (in our passports),” “[W]e knew all sorts of languages, but we did not become Poles or Russians” (pp. 71–72). The monograph emphasizes that the traditional basis for forming nationality (political territory, native language, professed religion) was suppressed: “[N]ationality, customs, and also the right to choose all this, throughout the entire borderland region often belonged to others—to foreign arrivals” (p. 73). Local inhabitants were constantly humiliated and punished by the newcomers; for example, Lithuanians working on collective farms were not paid and were mocked in various ways [“They say, we’ll re-educate you.” (p. 77)]; [“I went to work every day, but he did not register me. <...> He answered me angrily: you shout loudly, Lithuanian, you have not been assigned [anything].” (p. 78)]. Lithuanians living on both sides of the border had to acquire “local resident status,” although, as a respondent born in Belarus and living in Šalčininkai said, “[W]hat kind of Pole am I if I do not know Polish? I speak a mixed language. But my children already speak Russian, and my grandchildren speak Lithuanian” (p. 77). In confessional terms, the inhabitants of southeastern Lithuania and the islands of Belarus are endogamous, but they pray in Polish even when Mass is celebrated in Lithuanian; that is, the confessional criterion also defines the rules of language use. The author mentions that, after each occupation, local Lithuanians in Ramaškónys (Belarus) sought to regain the rights of the Lithuanian language first of all in church and school, but it was claimed that Pole and Catholic are synonyms, and that “Polishness ‘arises naturally’ from being Catholic” (p. 88)⁷. The only religious community throughout all the years of occupation—the family—did not resist Polonocentrism (a remnant of the interpretations of interwar Polish historiography). Confessional affiliation, as a criterion for identifying a community, remains relevant today as well (in Lithuania Mass is held in Polish and Lithuanian, while in Belarus it is held in Polish and Belarusian). The younger generation does not yet possess a religious-national model. To this day, an attitude inherited from the postwar period, due to the weak national identity of the population, has created conditions “for unambiguously identifying with any nationality and being motivated to act on behalf of any country” (p. 91). The author calls this period a process of restricted formation / non-formation? of national identity. The different factors determining communication and code-switching among borderland / beyond-the-border inhabitants (the possibility of participating in a conversation or consciously seeking separation by using the more prestigious language) were among the conditions for the emergence of bilingualism / multilingualism. Different generations in southeastern Lithuanian families communicate in various ways: husband and wife—in Russian; father and children—in Russian and poprostu; mother—in Polish and poprostu; children among themselves—in Lithuanian. Similarly in the Belarusian islands, except that children speak poprostu and Russian with their friends. The older generation recalls that “[C]onversations often broke down because of tension arising from intolerance toward the Lithuanian language or people of Lithuanian nationality” (p. 95). ⁷ This stereotype reflects the ideological attitudes of the szlachta (the aristocracy of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth), based on the opposition between Christian and pagan. 5 Localness is characteristic also of the ethnic part of Belarus, with which people were / continue to be connected by both language and close kinship ties. Yet the linguistic situation of the remaining Lithuanian islands, classified as peripheral dialects, is bleak: “being isolated, they are especially easily affected by Slavic languages” and have lost not only the vocabulary characteristic of dialects but also the prestige of the Lithuanian language (p. 44). Researchers in joint comprehensive expeditions of Slavists and Lithuanianists (held in 1974, 1976, and 1986) concluded that “[T]he Lithuanian language, once the most important language of the inhabitants of this region, gradually became, with the beginning of Lithuanian assimilation, the language of homes and families, and in some places ceased to be used altogether. The Belarusian dialect poprostu gradually displaced Lithuanian even from the family” (p. 45). Older borderland inhabitants who identify themselves as local, from here, tuteišis cannot say who they are. Respondents who identify only with geography and use a mixture of Polish, Russian, Belarusian, and Lithuanian do not have a clearly formed national identity⁸. The Pelesa site in Belarus, where Lithuanian was used in non-public settings and in church, and young people were taught Lithuanian at school (closed in 2023), has found itself in the position of a disappearing site. Local inhabitants are forced to adapt through language. Living in small rural communities (Nočia, Pelesa, Ramaškónys, Ródūnia) in Belarus, Lithuanians could not withstand the immense and prolonged pressure of the Slavic-speaking majority. Language decline is related to language status: in the ethnic Lithuanian territories, Lithuanian was never an official or public language, and no official documentation was conducted in it. The monograph describes the connection between language survival and the community’s cultural assimilation. As a result, distinctive features are gradually lost and replaced by the traditions imposed as “more prestigious,” “higher-level,” and “more cultured.” People consciously and unconsciously adapt to new customs and the new language / languages, becoming bilingual. Later, when the second, learned language predominates in everyday life, people move from bilingualism to monolingualism. The author of the book analyzes how, in the borderland and beyond-the-border areas under study, especially in the Lithuanian islands of Belarus, cultural assimilation was carried out “from above,” that is, through pressure from the local administration, education, and the church. For example, during the Soviet era, Lithuanians in the southeastern Lithuanian borderlands and its ethnic territories could not send their children to Lithuanian schools because such schools did not exist (or were too far from residential areas). And parents who had attended Polish and Russian schools became denationalized and did not seek to teach their children Lithuanian. Thus, “this language became an unheard ‘relic’ of the past, unable to meet the everyday needs of young people” (p. 60). In the Šalčininkai and Varanavo areas, Lithuanians became an ethnic minority, and this status has not changed to this day [“if Catholic, then Pole” (p. 61) generally denied the existence of Lithuanians in the areas under study]. A respondent from Ramaškónys recounts how the Armia Krajowa units, which persecuted Lithuanians, “formed” ethnic identity: “he had registered himself as a Pole. <...> A Pole, but he speaks Lithuanian. <...> They considered him a false Pole. <...> Next time we’ll come, they say, and help you ⁸ The claim that Polish ethnic and national identity is expressed more strongly and actively in Vilnius and its surroundings than in the city and district of Šalčininkai is debatable, since statistical data show otherwise. According to the 2021 and 2022 Lithuanian population censuses, in Šalčininkai District alone, 79.5 percent of inhabitants registered themselves / were registered (?) as Polish. 6 on this bench. And you know, with a šompalas (metal rod), they say, we’ll strike you so that you’ll know what to be” (p. 62). The conscious and consistent Slavicization of the population was carried out on a state-wide scale: if the parents’ nationality was not entered on the birth certificate, those citizens were registered as being of Polish nationality. Tuomienė evaluates code-switching not only as a linguistic phenomenon, but also as a social, psychological, and even practical one, observable at the phonetic, lexical, phrase or sentence, and discourse levels. Code-switching is connected either with a desire to express solidarity with a social group or to distinguish oneself from it (emphasizing social status or elitism), or with a shift in the topic of conversation. Theoretical claims about code-switching are illustrated effectively and convincingly with bilingual / multilingual examples. According to the author, when studying code-switching and language / language use in general across various domains, the six code-switching functions established by scholars René Appel and Pietier Muysken are most suitable for research (Appel, Muysken 2005: 118). In the multilingual communities of southeastern Lithuania and northeastern Belarus studied, the author records switching among four languages—four codes. It was established that in the speech of informants from three generations—the oldest, middle, and youngest—code-switching performs five functions: referential, directive, identificational, metaphorical, and metalinguistic⁹. The author established a connection between the use of individual codes and the national and civic identity of local inhabitants. In cases of code-switching, all speakers most often inserted / switched to one language—the Belarusian dialect poprostu. According to the researcher, the frequency of shifts to this dialect may have been influenced by the environment (the border with Belarus), the inhabitants’ age, and, less often, education. The author describes each of the analyzed code-switching functions in detail: the referential function is used to clarify the expression of the ideas conveyed or the equivalent of a word. The directive function of code-switching is recognized when a speaker adapts to the language used by the interlocutor in order to include them in the interaction (this is more common in conversations among middle- and younger-generation representatives than among older people, since the latter are not always inclined to change codes). Conversations conducted alternately in two languages—Lithuanian dialect and Belarusian dialect poprostu—are regarded by the author of the book as manifestations of the identificational function, that is, a sign of tuteišiškumas. During discourse, inserting one or several words from another language into the main language of dialogue serves to emphasize or highlight the essence of a statement or give it an additional semantic nuance (the metaphorical function). The author observes examples of the metalinguistic function of code-switching in residents’ conversations when they discuss the specifics of the languages of their region, the functions of the languages used in their native localities, identify the meanings of individual words, and take an interest in similarities and differences among those meanings. The description of the study of code-switching functions in the monograph, as a promising and contemporary way to reveal the role of language or languages in today’s multicultural and multilingual society, could be applied more broadly in linguistic works. Thus, it may be argued that through the results of this type of study, the author seeks to change the negative evaluation of language switching that previously prevailed in linguistics. One thing is clear: communication in a multilingual environment requires participants to (re)apply languages practically and skilfully, and to use various linguistic resources creatively and freely. I believe that Tuomienė’s further research, connected with ⁹ The poetic function of code-switching is not examined in the work due to a lack of examples. 7 the code-switching and linguistic behavior of the younger generation in Lithuania’s borderland regions in a multilingual environment, would be highly promising. The book’s author emphasizes the changes in the linguistic situation that took place at the turn of the century, since in the 20th century (during the 1960s–1980s) Lithuanian and Belarusian dominated unofficial communication, whereas in the 21st century (during the 2000s–2010s) they were replaced exclusively by Slavic languages. Respondents explain why this happened: “<...> there was Russian rule, later Lithuanian, then the Poles occupied us. The war began and the Soviets came. Then—the Lithuanians again. So what state did we live in? If over perhaps a hundred years there were Lithuania, Poland, the Soviet Union, and Belarus here, now—it is Lithuania again <...>. Throughout my father’s life, for example, the government changed six times. And each time the new government asks people: who are you? Who are you? People understood that it was best to say that I am a local. And that’s all. Jestem tutejszy (in Lithuanian, I am a local)” (p. 108). According to the author, the linguistic situation in the Belarusian islands is different: “[F]ew people here speak Lithuanian anymore. There is no one; we have no one to speak with. The young do not know it, they gudauja (speak Belarusian), only in Belarusian and Russian now. They do not need the Lithuanian language” (p. 118). Since the 1970s, the younger generation has no longer spoken Lithuanian. The description of language death is presented through a more systematic analysis of code-switching in the Ramaškonys microarea (Belarus). The stages of assimilation identified by the author (pressure on the community to speak the dominant language, bilingualism among the inhabitants, and the younger generation’s identification with another language) slowly pushed Lithuanian out of use. At the beginning of the 20th century, members of the older generation who still spoke Lithuanian did not pass it on to the middle and younger generations. Lithuanian was displaced from the private home environment in two ways: parents spoke Lithuanian to each other, but with their children—in poprostu [“The old people would gather, you know, and drone on (speak) in Lithuanian. They would tell all sorts of things, while we children no longer understood anything that those old people were droning on about (speaking). We children understood nothing; with us they already spoke poprostu”] (p. 135). The status of the languages changed: the Belarusian dialect grew stronger until the 1920s, while from 1920 to 1939, after Poland occupied the Vilnius region and part of northwestern Belarus, Polish became dominant. Polish also took over the functions of Lithuanian, strengthened by the church, the opening of Polish primary schools, the introduction of compulsory primary education, and the authorities’ policy (the language served as a means of communicating with the authorities), for example: “[G]od does not know any other language, only Polish”; “[F]or twenty years the Poles hammered into people’s heads that the Lithuanian language was an uncultured language, the language of atheists. God would not hear prayers in Lithuanian” (pp. 137–138). Children were sent to Polish schools [“When the schools opened, we would gather, stand together, make our little circle, and speak Lithuanian. Then others would point their fingers, saying, those are Lithuanians, their blood is dog’s blood” (p. 140)]. Belarusian poprostu and Polish were consciously regarded as two varieties of the same language. From the mid-20th century, awareness of Lithuanian national identity had strengthened: people wanted to learn standard Lithuanian, but the ethnic self-identification of the inhabitants of the Ramaškonys microarea was always dependent on the authorities, which had formed the view that Lithuanian was “a poor rural language”; “we speak Lithuanian badly”; “spoiled Lithuanian”; “[Our] language is ugly, as if from some roadside ditch”; “an ugly language”; “a žmudiška (Žemaitian) dialect” (pp. 143–144). Nor was poprostu valued: “in Lithuanian: people do not want someone to speak to them in church in ordinary language, or to address the priest in that way,” 8 “as one would address a cow” (p. 144). The loss of prestige of the Lithuanian dialect/language was determined not only by relations with the Belarusian dialect poprostu, but also with Polish: “both of these languages—Lithuanian and Belarusian—were deliberately opposed to the ‘higher culture’, more prestigious (in the not-too-distant past) Polish language” (p. 145). The inhabitants of the southeastern Lithuanian and northwestern Belarusian borderland remained the same, but they became bilingual/multilingual (as a result of the assimilation of the local population’s culture, carried out through administration, education, and the church). The identity of the borderland inhabitants changed from an undefined one based on nationality to identification with several national groups at once. Tuteišiškumas (local identity) was a way of resisting political and social pressure and a different system of linguistic identity. Although in the 21st century the youth of southeastern Lithuania understand the importance of education, are interested in questions of nationality and ethnicity, and would like to link their future with Lithuania and abandon the model of local identity, they have not yet created their own [“my nationality is international” (p. 81)]. In Belarus, the Lithuanian language is dead; the Russian language, which has become the state language, predominates. Polish has been assigned a confessional function. In summary, it can be stated that Part 1 of the monograph Language and Identity in the Borderlands of Southeastern Lithuania and Belarus (Second Half of the 20th Century–Beginning of the 21st Century) by Nijolė Tuomienė is important and relevant for two essential reasons. First, the book summarizes and critically reviews the author’s previous work and research on the areas she has studied and evaluates their methodology. Second, it proposes a new model for the sociolinguistic study of the borderland and an area of intensive language contact. The value of this scholarly monograph is further enhanced by the fact that it is not merely a linguistic or sociolinguistic work—it is interdisciplinary. In her research, the author draws not only on the work of linguists and sociolinguists, but also on studies by sociologists, cultural researchers, and historians, because the analysis concerns not only linguistic or sociolinguistic facts but also takes into account historical, cultural, sociocultural, and political contexts. It is important that the two areas under study are viewed “from both sides”, that is, as a once-unified Lithuanian-speaking area, without artificially dividing it into Lithuania and Belarus. The monograph’s novelty, relevance, and originality are also enhanced by the fact that the author relies on authentic multilingual audio recordings, incorporating material from sociolinguistic surveys of local inhabitants into the research. It must be mentioned that the author of the book herself comes from a Lithuanian-speaking island in Belarus; therefore, she understands and can assess the situation under investigation not only on the basis of the collected material but also through authentic personal experience. Having closed the book, one can confidently say that the monograph’s stated aim—to reveal, on the basis of empirical data, the circumstances of the retreat/decline of the Lithuanian language from the borderland of southeastern Lithuania and the ethnic Lithuanian islands in Belarus; to determine the sociolinguistic and ethnolinguistic causes of language change; and to investigate the code-switching used by bilingual/multilingual people living or having lived in the localities of the borderland, as well as its types and functions—has been achieved and constitutes a new approach to the history and sociolinguistic development of our language. The present-day situation of the Lithuanian language in the southeastern Lithuanian borderland, unfortunately, offers little cause for optimism: in the restored State of Lithuania, which has already existed for more than thirty years, “local identity” persists. To this day, we observe the “greatest wars” still taking place in souls/hearts. How long will it take before it is understood that every person of the borderland/periphery, 9 as an object and subject of culture/language, could/be able to wish to live out their own life, rather than a life imposed from outside? Will Regimantas Tamošaitis’s thought that “the only boundary in this place is myself” ever become a general state policy regarding language and identity? LITERATŪRA Appel René, Pieter Muysken 2005: Language Contact and Bilingualism, Amsterdam: Academic Archive. Čekmonas Valerijus 2017: Kalbų kontaktai ir sociolingvistika [Language Contacts and Sociolinguistics], sud. L. Kalėdienė, Vilnius: Lietuvių kalbos institutas. Turska Halina 1995 [1939]: O powstaniu polskich obszarów językowych na Wileńszczyźnie [On the Emergence of Polish Language Areas in the Vilnius Region], sud., įvadinio straipsnio aut. V. Čekmonas, Vilnius: Mintis. 10